


Nighttime Visits

by writemydreams



Series: SladeRobin Week 2017 [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Hurt Dick Grayson, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Serious Injuries, SladeRobin Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 05:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writemydreams/pseuds/writemydreams
Summary: Dick is benched after being shot in the thigh during a fight with Black Mask and his men. He's not happy, but knows it's best for his leg. Slade comes to visit one night after hearing about Dick's injury.





	Nighttime Visits

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 7: Witching Hour. 
> 
> My ideas for Sladin Week kept changing or, in the case of two fics, focusing more on Tim rather than the actual pairing.

Bruce carefully bandaged Dick’s thigh. “The bullet tore through skin and muscle. You need to let this heal properly or else you’ll be limping for a long time.” He peeled off his bloody gloves, tossing them into the nearby garbage can. “No patrol for at least a week. Maybe two depending on the condition of your leg.”

“Bruce!” Dick objected. “I can’t just stay in. You need me out there!” He got out of bed to prove his point. His leg buckled the moment he was on his feet. He grabbed the edge of the bed to support himself, Bruce’s strong hands catching him before he could fall. 

Bruce guided him back down to sit. “I’m serious, Dick. You have to focus on healing. Stay off the streets, no acrobatics, use crutches whenever you walk anywhere, and take care of your health. Gotham needs you whole and healthy. So do I,” the last words were almost a whisper. Still audible though. Enough to stop Dick’s retort.

He knew Bruce was right. It didn’t mean he had to like it. “Fine. At least let me work on cases and handle the com lines while everyone else is out patrolling. I’m going to go stir crazy if I don’t have something to do.” 

“You can do both so long as you keep your weight off that leg. Are you ready to go upstairs?”

Dick nodded. “I am.”

“Lean on me. We’ll take the elevator out of the Batcave then go up to your old room.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Bruce, I’m not moving in.” He slung his arm over Bruce’s shoulders and allowed him to support his weight.

“I don’t expect you to. You’ll stay the night so I can ensure there’s no infection. Damian will enjoy having you at the manor too.” Bruce’s expression remained neutral even though he had to feel beyond smug for dropping that line. Dick could hardly refuse a chance to make his youngest brother happy! Something Bruce knew very well. Damn schemer.

Dick huffed out a sigh. “Okay. I’ll spend one night here then go back to my apartment in the morning. I can have Tim pick me up after work and bring me back to the Cave.” A week off with nothing but casework and com lines to keep him busy. Maybe he could bribe Jason into coming over and helping him clean up his apartment. A movie night with Tim was a must. Dick didn’t want to see his younger brother become a complete workaholic like Bruce with no real outlet aside from punching criminals. 

Bruce took him up to the main level via the elevator. He’d had it installed after Barbara’s injury so she could enter and exit the cave without difficulty. “I’ll drop you off before my board meeting. Can you handle the stairs up to your room?” He glanced at Dick’s bandaged thigh then the grand staircase leading up to the bedrooms. 

Dick chuckled. “Thanks, Dad, but I can hobble upstairs with your help. There’s no need to carry me.” He grinned at Bruce as they made their slow, careful way up the staircase and into Dick’s bedroom. “I can take it from here. Go get some sleep.”

“You too.”

“I will.” Dick limped over to his closet to pull out shorts and a tank top. Good thing he kept spare clothes at the manor. The alternative would be trying to fit into something of Bruce or Damian’s. Dick changed into his pajamas and got into bed. He’d be wearing a lot of shorts until his leg healed. Slade would enjoy that if he happened to pay a visit. 

**Three Days Later**

Being benched due to injury was _so_ boring. Leg injuries were the worst as he had to stay on the ground, something that always made him feel restless and cranky. Dick grumbled to himself as he flipped through channels. Might as well catch up on the latest TV shows until he couldn’t stand looking at a screen anymore. He settled for _Star Trek Discovery_ , one he’d seen a couple episodes of with Tim already. Dick made a mental note to send Tim to a Star Trek convention as a birthday present. 

He glanced over when the balcony door slid open. “Damian? Is that you?” He got off the couch, remembering to grab his crutches. Dick tucked them under his arms and hobbled to the balcony. He blinked as Slade entered. “Slade.”

“Expecting baby bat?”

Dick shrugged. “I figured he’d stop by after patrol.” He watched Slade take off his helmet. “Is this a booty call?”

“Heard you were injured.” Slade’s eye lingered on Dick’s bare legs before focusing on the bandage. “Knife or bullet?”

“Bullet. One of Black Mask’s goons got me. Jason, ah, repaid him for it. Do you want a drink?” Dick headed into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, pushing aside takeout containers. “I’ve got beer, hard cider, vodka.” He grinned when Slade tugged him back against him. Slade never could resist him when he wore shorts.

“Did you borrow these from your sister? They say ‘Juicy’ across the ass.” Slade traced the letters. He was clearly too distracted to respond to Dick’s offer of a drink.

Dick playfully rocked back into his hands. “Cass wouldn’t be caught dead in these. Maybe I bought them for myself. You and various perverts are always telling me how great my butt is. Besides, I know I rock these shorts.” He pulled away to sit down on a barstool when his leg throbbed in protest. Dick rubbed the area around the wound. “If you came here for acrobatic sex tonight, you’re out of luck. I got shot three days ago.”

Slade took two beers out of the fridge. “What makes you think I came here for sex, Grayson? It’s all you’ve talked about so far. And I’ve only been in your apartment for five minutes.”

Dick gave him a withering look. “Don’t deflect on me. You’ve never come to my place to have a drink and talk about my day. You've always been more of the Netflix and Chill type without the Netflix.” He accepted the beer Slade gave him and took a drink. He doubted a single beer would interfere too much with his painkillers. 

Slade raised an eyebrow. “Well now.” He fisted his hand in Dick’s hair and turned his face up to kiss him. “I think I can handle a lack of acrobatic sex. You need to heal up if you intend to squeeze into that Nightwing suit anytime soon.”

Dick smiled playfully. Sex with Slade tended to be a workout in itself. “How long do you plan to stick around Gotham?” He set his beer aside to twine his fingers in Slade’s white hair, drawing him back into another kiss. It started slow and lazy then became deeper, hungrier. Dick broke the kiss to catch his breath. He shivered when Slade started kissing a trail down his neck.

“I’d only planned to be in Gotham a night,” Slade said against his skin. He nipped Dick’s collarbone. “Given the state of your leg, I think I’ll extend my trip. Pleasure only. No business.” He caressed Dick’s thigh with his free hand and claimed his lips again.

Dick grinned. “So you’re going to be my nursemaid.” He pictured Slade dressed in a nurse outfit. Oh he would pay to see something so hilarious! A fierce, powerful man like Slade Wilson dressed in something so ill fitting would entertain him forever. 

Slade slapped his ass as if he knew what Dick was thinking. “You’ve got your bat brethren for that.” He returned his hand to Dick’s thigh. He traced his fingers to the edge of the bandage then down to his knee. “You know, Grayson, your Nightwing suit would be even better with booty shorts. Or those little panties you wore as Robin.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “I left my leg flaunting days behind when I became Nightwing. If you want to see my bare legs you’ll have to come to the gym or my apartment.” He swatted Slade’s hand off his thigh. “Since you’re here to entertain me, go ahead and start. We’re wearing too many—Slade!” He yelped, clutching the older man’s shoulder when Slade lifted him off the stool and into his arms. Oh hell no. There was no way Dick would allow Slade to carry him off like a bride. “Put me down!”

Slade ignored his protests as he carried Dick to the living room. “Why, so you can take forever to hobble to the couch or your bed? And risk opening up that wound?” He dropped Dick onto the couch. “Now let’s see how much that leg of yours can handle.”

Huffing, Dick switched off the TV. “Fine. You better make it good for me.”

“Have I ever disappointed you?” Slade claimed his lips in a kiss before he could answer. Both of them already knew what he would say.


End file.
